


The Tale of Yukio

by JackOfOly



Series: The Tale of Yukio [1]
Category: Warhammer 40.000, Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors
Genre: Chaos, Gen, Mystery, Science Fiction, Space Marines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 09:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29948133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackOfOly/pseuds/JackOfOly
Summary: Part 1 of a fanfiction I am writing following a White Scars marine, Yukio Nise, who was taken from the Eye of Terror by a band of Eldar corsairs and trained in traversing the Warp – avoiding the daemonic rather than battling it. Please let me know what you think and let me know if you are interested in more!
Series: The Tale of Yukio [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2202561
Kudos: 1





	The Tale of Yukio

Consciousness crept back into the warrior’s skull, slowly, agonizingly, drunkenly. The air around him was heavy with smoke, from spell and lasgun, from incantation and daemonfire. His hearing slowly focused, the noises around him becoming clear, free from the bleary filter of unconsciousness. They split his mind. Cackling laughter fought against the squeal of engines and blades grinding across one another. 

He heard a brother-warrior, the last one standing perhaps, shout, “For the Khan! For the Emperor!” The dazed marine turned his head toward the voice, but he could not see beyond the steaming remains of a daemon. As its ethereal body dissolved, he saw the corpse of a brother-warrior revealed, and then find true rest on the physical ground beneath. The man’s helmet was melted, along with his flesh. Only a skull remained. Yet his hand still clenched his blade – painted with familial symbols of piety, which dripped the ethereal creature’s ichor still. The dazed warrior tried to regain an understanding of the situation, he was on the verge of unconsciousness, his brothers were in peril, where were they? What could he do? 

The warrior’s identity came back to him, Yukio Nise, member of the Great Khan’s honor guard, servant of the White Scars legion.   
After a moment, he was able to reach to his side, his right arm found the hilt of a chain-sword. Yukio forced himself to his feet, and saw a bolter laying some distance away, which he took up with his free hand. He spoke through the comms system in his helmet, “Brothers! Status Report.” 

“Brother!”   
Yukio’s head snapped to the direction the voice came from, a signal rune flared on distant armour. It was the Captain.  
“Captain!”   
“Yukio! Retreat, this is my last order, return to the legion, tell them our mission was unsuccessful.” 

Yukio shuddered, he had never heard Captain Genji order a retreat. He had never been part of a retreat before.   
Genji’s voice barked over the din of battle, and ominous pounding of footsteps, “Yukio, my orders are the law, begin your retreat.”   
Yukio yelled back, in as measured a voice as he had left, “Captain, I’m going to make my way to your position, I will cover your retreat. The clan can’t lose your guidance.”   
He started heading in the direction of Genji but stopped when he heard a laugh in the distance.   
The captain’s augmented voice came back, "That’s enough insubordination, battle-brother.” His statement was cut off by a grunt. Distantly Yukio heard a terrible squealing, then two heavy thuds. He could barely make out the image of Genji, and the goat-headed daemon he’d just bisected from collar to groin. The voice came back, breathing heavily, the humor gone, “Begin your retreat. Now.”   
....  
....  
....

Yukio sat on the comfortable bed, lengthened and broadened for his massive frame. His eyes rested on the oil painting he’d just completed. A great falcon, like those from Chogoris, seen from below. It was flying with its head craned to one side – its eyes were rendered in uncanny detail, brilliantly yellow, and the focus displayed there held an almost unbearable intensity. One almost felt that they were themselves looking for something desperately, just by gazing into the falcon’s questing eyes. 

Yukio had to admit that his skill in rendering the scenes and beauty which flowered within him had grown much during his time as the Eldar’s “guest.” By this point he was free to roam the ship, if he wanted to he could likely escape it – steal a barge, kill one or two who got in his way – but he still had no answers on where to go after that. 

Yukio meditated daily on the question of how he could serve his legion, his primarch, and the empire. He had made little headway, so he trained with the prince and his sworn retinue, he practiced works of art for the glory of his brothers, his khan, and his home. He attempted to remain the best servant, the best son, of the Khan that he could in his circumstance – and to remain vigilant, so that when the time came to act, whatever that might mean, he would be ready. 

A knock struck the door, one strike, then a pause, followed by three strikes, another pause, and then a final strike. Yukio stood, walked over to the small desk where he’d been writing litanies against the ruinous powers and then spoke, “Come in, prince.”  
Prince Aurelianus Biendal opened the door smoothly and entered soundlessly. He wore a warm smile, “Yukio, I was told you finished your most recent painting, I have come to admire it!” Aurelianus wore a finely tailored but ruggedly durable gray jacket over his suit of bronze-coloured armour. Yukio had grudgingly grown to admire the prince, who reminded him of his former captain, only partially because they both wore their hair in long buns – a fact which unnerved Yukio at first. 

“I fear it captures an emotion I had not intended it to.” Yukio walked over to where the prince was examining his work, “I had sat down with the intention of displaying my resolution to find my lord, the Khan.” 

“But instead of a bird with a sure course, you ended up with one who is so far astray as to not have any direction at all.” Aurelianus smiled at Yukio and put a hand on the taller man’s broad shoulder, “I’m sorry my friend, at this point I would give you back to your Khan, even though he would likely send you against us the very next moment.” The prince laughed, “If only to wipe that pitiful expression off your face!” 

Yukio couldn’t help but smile, “I still do not know why you chose to save me, prince.”   
....  
....


End file.
